


Guardian

by mrs_d



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: (or you can read it as slash I won't judge you), Demon Shane Madej, Episode: s02e04 The Haunted Halls Of Waverly Hills Hospital, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Protective Shane Madej
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22632124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: It’s three nights later when Ryan asks.“Shane, why’d you run?”
Relationships: Ryan Bergara & Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 14
Kudos: 381





	Guardian

**Author's Note:**

> Brief intro: [Waverly Hills](https://youtu.be/LXhLlWQtdt0) is one of my favourite episodes, and in the Almost 70th Episode Retrospective, the cameraman revealed [this little moment](https://youtu.be/vOxFgZaD0tQ?t=490) that grabbed my brain and wouldn't let go. So if you haven't seen either of those episodes recently, you should probably click those links, or this fic might not make a ton of sense. 
> 
> Also, in case anyone is confused, I assume that BFU is like any other show, and they don't film episodes in order (rather, they devise a shooting schedule based on the availability of the site and crew, etc.), so that's why they're talking about going to Bobby Mackey's *after* Waverly, even though the Bobby Mackey's episode aired first. 
> 
> Oh, and this goes without saying, but I'm gonna say it anyway: don't tell celebrities about this (or any) RPF, okay? Thanks.

It’s three nights later when Ryan asks. Shane knew it was coming, but he was expecting this conversation to happen either a lot sooner — like, the night of — or much later, like when the episode aired, and the social media interns started sending in questions about it for their new Post-Mortem segment. But no, it’s tonight.

They’re one of only a few people left in the office this late, and they cross the street to grab takeout, which happens all too often because they’re both workaholics. Ryan’s been locked in a sound booth re-doing the opening monologue, and Shane’s neck-deep in research, trying to catch up on _ Ruining History _ because he’s spent the last few nights doing his other job, his real job.

So he’s tired and not really prepared for it when Ryan asks the question while they’re in the elevator with the smell of fast food rising from the paper bags in their hands.

“Shane, why’d you run?”

Shane turns, startled out of his thoughts. “Huh?”

“Mark said you ran, the other night.” Ryan won’t quite look at him. “At Waverly,” he clarifies unnecessarily.

The elevator beeps and tells them that they’re reached their floor. Shane decides to take advantage of this and waits to answer. He waits until they’re out of the elevator and he’s used his free hand to swipe his ID badge to open the door. He waits until they’ve settled at the lunchroom table, and Ryan’s given him the extra napkins he always gets because Shane always forgets to grab some. 

Finally, when he’s carefully extracting his burger from the bag, Shane says, “I ran because thought it was a bobcat.”

Ryan clearly wasn’t expecting this — maybe he wanted Shane to deny that he ran at all. Maybe he wanted Shane to say he was legitimately spooked by a ghost, and that’s why he took off down the hall. Either way, he gapes, his mouth working silently for a few seconds before he gets the words out. 

“A bobcat?”

“Yeah,” says Shane, biting a French fry in half for emphasis. “Did you see how many rat turds there were in that place? It wasn’t exactly sealed against wildlife.”

“Okay, fair,” Ryan admits, but Shane can tell that he’s not done. Not even close. Sure enough, he adds, “But that noise we both heard sounded nothing like a bobcat.”

“Like you know what a bobcat sounds like,” Shane teases. “What are you, David Attenborough now?” He adopts an exaggerated — terrible — British accent. “The extraordinary creature known as the bobcat—”

But Ryan’s not taking the bait. “I don’t have to be David Attenborough to know that a bobcat doesn’t sound like that! The sound we heard was different, it was like a— a dead body, being dragged over cement!”

“A dead—!” Shane scoffs, then laughs. “Oh, come on, Ryan. It did not sound like that.”

“It did so, and you know it,” says Ryan stubbornly. 

“Well, it didn’t sound like that to me,” Shane says, matter of fact. “You know what that space was used for, so your imagination—”

“I didn’t imagine it, you heard it too,” Ryan insists, pointing at him with a fry. “You literally said,_ Did you hear that? _ I’ve got it on camera!”

“I’m not denying I heard it,” says Shane more calmly, so Ryan will chill. It works: Ryan relaxes and takes a sip of his soda. “I’m just saying,” Shane continues, “I thought the noise was an animal, so I got up to scare it off.”

He watches Ryan consider this. He hears the seed of truth in his own voice, and knows that Ryan hears it too. Because, when you boil it down, this is the truth: he got up to scare something off. The rest, Ryan doesn’t need to know. 

“You left me at the bottom of the chute, though,” Ryan grumbles, his mouth full. “Some friend you are.” 

Shane smiles, relieved by the return to normalcy. “I was trying to protect you,” he argues. Again: true. “Sacrificing myself, so—”

“What if it was a bear?!” Ryan interrupts, but Shane doesn’t stop. 

“—you could go on, tell the noble story of the great Shane Madej, who perished in battle with a monstrous creature, the likes of which man has never—”

“All right, all right,” Ryan says finally, to shut him up. 

Shane laughs, and they fall into a companionable silence while they eat. 

“So that’s what you’re gonna tell the— all the _Shaniacs,_ when they ask?” Ryan asks a minute later, when Shane’s mid-bite. 

“It’s the truth,” Shane lies with his mouth full.

Ryan — ironically — looks skeptical. “You gonna admit you were afraid?”

“Of a bobcat? Yeah, kinda.” Shane swallows, wipes his mouth. “Those things can be nasty if the mood strikes them just right.”

“I meant before you ran,” Ryan explains. 

Shane shrugs, casual. “Wasn’t scared, other than that.”

“Bull. Shit,” Ryan enunciates clearly. “That place was creepy as fuck, admit it.”

“I admit that it looked like the set of a horror movie,” Shane concedes. 

“And so you were scared,” Ryan concludes, ramping up for what he clearly thinks is a victory. 

“I was not—”

“You were,” Ryan crows. “Mark said he’d never seen you so pale.”

“I’m a white guy from the Midwest,” Shane deadpans. “What do you expect?”

“You were scared,” Ryan says again. 

Shane sighs. “I was scared.” He waits until Ryan’s done celebrating to add, “That wild animals would attack us.”

Ryan makes a familiar and endearing noise of disbelief. He shakes his head. “Okay, Shane. Whatever. That place was terrifying, and one of these days, you’re gonna admit it. Even if it’s on your deathbed—”

“Nope,” says Shane. With luck, he’ll never have a deathbed.

“—and on that day, I will be there to say I told you so.”

“You’d say that to a man on his deathbed?” Shane asks, faking outrage. “Wow, way to be a dick, Ry. The nurses are gonna love that.” 

“I don’t care,” Ryan says. “In fact, I bet they’ll say it with me. You _are_ a pain in the ass.”

“Okay, Ryan,” Shane says, laughing while he echoes Ryan’s earlier tone. “Whatever you say.”

“I say nothing,” says Ryan, triumphant. “Not yet, anyway.”

Shane laughs through the rest of his burger. He has to admit, it’s fun playing human like this.

As Shane starts on his fries, Ryan asks, “You ready for the next one?”

“What’s the next one again?” Shane asks, like he’s forgotten. 

“Bobby Mackey’s,” Ryan replies with a visible shudder. “The only demon episode for this season.”

“Oh, right,” says Shane, licking salt off his fingers.

“Gotta get some more holy water,” Ryan adds, to himself. “Salt, too.”

Shane wipes his hands on a napkin and keeps a straight face when he asks, “Does that really work?”

“Does what work?” 

“Salt. I mean, assuming demons are real, which they’re not, do you really think they’re allergic to sodium chloride?”

“Oooh, sodium chloride,” Ryan repeats. “Somebody’s got his science hat on.”

“Better than your tinfoil,” Shane parries back. 

“Only because it won’t fit on your ginormous head,” says Ryan, which catches Shane off-guard and gets him laughing again. 

“No, I don’t know,” Ryan goes on more seriously after a moment. “It’s all folklore and superstition, that salt’s supposed to keep impure things away, but I don’t know if there’s any truth to it.” 

“There’s none,” Shane tells him seriously. “Because none of this stuff is real.”

“Says the guy who thought he could scare away a bobcat by running after it.”

“I could,” Shane insists. “And how do you know it wasn’t a bobcat?”

“How do you know it wasn’t a ghost?” Ryan counters, as charmingly frustrating as ever. If Shane really were the skeptical human he was pretending to be, he doesn’t know how he’d handle this. Luckily, he’s not, and he’s very good at telling the truth when it suits his purposes. 

“If I’d thought it was a ghost, I wouldn’t have run,” he says, completely honest. 

Ryan doesn’t look convinced, but Shane goes back to eating, like the matter is resolved. It is — the creature posing as Timmy might know Ryan’s name, but it will never dare to come after him again. Not now that it knows who Shane is, and what Shane will do if it tries.

“It’s a moot point anyway,” Ryan says out of nowhere a few minutes later.

“What is?”

“Why you ran.” Ryan sucks the last noisy bit of soda out of his cup and reaches for Shane’s fries. Shane whacks his hand away, but Ryan still manages to snag one. “I don’t think it’s gonna make it into the episode,” he says through his stolen mouthful. 

“It’s not?” Shane’s surprised, but not unhappy — he wasn’t looking forward to having this conversation again in the Post-Mortem or in an interview down the road. “How come?”

Ryan half-shrugs. “It’s kinda hard to explain, and people don’t really need to know that you left. It’s enough that you heard it.”

Shane considers this as he munches the last few fries and finishes his drink. “You think?”

“Yeah,” says Ryan, sounding more sure now. “We’ll have the advanced audio, show you asking about it, and cut to my reaction. That’s enough.”

“Okay,” says Shane. It is Ryan’s show after all — it’s ultimately his call. 

“Plus, this way we can keep it back, maybe do a deleted scenes thing someday,” Ryan adds with a grin. “If the show get popular enough, people will want to know all about how you got scared and ran away.”

“I wasn’t scared,” Shane says, and the argument starts up again. 

Even as they banter back and forth, he’s thinking about Ryan’s words: _ if the show gets popular enough. _ Meaning, if it lasts. Shane’s not sure what to expect on that front — even he can’t predict the future. He took this gig because he was bored in the Pit, and got a lot more than he bargained for — namely, an actual human friend. He can’t remember the last time _ that _ happened. 

“Well, back to isolation,” Ryan sighs, when they leave the lunchroom. “You think you’ll be here much longer?”

“I don’t know,” Shane admits. “This research is pretty awesome, but not all-nighter awesome. You?”

“We’ll see,” says Ryan. “If I don’t see you before you take off, have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too,” Shane says. He gestures down the hall towards the studio space. “Let me know if you need me to come in there and make fun of your _ evidence,” _he adds, with air quotes. 

“Oh, fuck off,” says Ryan, but there’s no heat to it. Shane laughs and sends him a jaunty salute before heading back to his desk. 

As he opens his research again, he tunes his ear to Ryan down the hall, listening in case there’s trouble. That thing from the Queen Mary has been showing up periodically since Ryan went back there six months ago, but it’s quiet now, and Shane hopes it stays that way.

Because Ryan Bergara is his, and, if he has to, he’ll fight all of Hell to keep him safe.

**Author's Note:**

> New contact info if you want to get in touch:
> 
> Tumblr: [mrsd-writes](http://mrsd-writes.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Twitter: [@mrsd_writes](https://www.twitter.com/mrsd_writes)
> 
> Dreamwidth: [mrs_d](https://mrs-d.dreamwidth.org/)


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